


... Light Of...

by Fangirlingmanaged



Series: God Knows I... [14]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Returns, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Hurt Bruce, Hurt Steve, I'm Sorry, M/M, Protective Steve, Steve Feels, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5547986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlingmanaged/pseuds/Fangirlingmanaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's whole existence has depended on faith. Miracles. Taking a leap of faith. Why stop now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	... Light Of...

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SO HAPPY WITH THIS CHAPTERRRR! FINALLY! MY BABIES...  
> okay, but legit, I was listening to Alive and Bird Set Free by Sia on repeat as I wrote this. It was FANTASTIC!  
> Almost there, y'all!

_Tony’s beautiful like this. Spread out on a blanket in the terrace of the penthouse with a tablet on his hands and his signature crimson-tinted sunglasses. His hair tussles softly in the breeze as he taps happily away with whatever invention he’s coming up with. From his vantage point, standing next to Thor and Clint by the grill, Steve looks on as a crease forms between his eyebrow and his thumbs become almost frantic in their tapping. Ah, so another brilliant idea that needs to be put down before it leaves his memory._

_From his left, a wha-psh sound calls his attention away from his lover. Clint is perched on a chair to his left, looking at him with mocking amusement. He’s crouching down instead of sitting, and he’s fiddling with an arrowhead. He grins up at Steve when the super soldier gives him a mock glare. He can’t find it in himself to deny it, though, because he knows it’s true. The evidence is in how quickly his eyes flit back to his lover. He doesn’t know why but something in him_ knows _that it’s imperative that he watch on as much as he possibly can in that moment. A sudden sense of urgency strikes him, and he feels his heart pounding in his chest. Tony must have felt his gaze on him because the genius snaps his head up, and gives Steve a small, intimate smile. Steve doesn’t know why he feels like crying, and barely manages to return it. Tony’s frowning at him now, putting his tablet down, and making a motion as if to stand down. Steve’s sense of urgency gets worse, and he motions for his lover to stay put. To go back to mere seconds before when he was relaxed and content._

_Tony’s not buying it though, and he sits up. The tight-fitting t-shirt he’s wearing moves with him like a second skin, and the reactor shines brightly even through the fabric. That light makes the frantic beating of Steve’s heart slow down to normal levels, and he’s able to give Tony an actual smile then. The genius still looks unconvinced, but he just stares for a bit longer, and then diverts his attention to Pepper who was sitting next to him in a lounge chair with a book in her hands. She smiles at him, and he gives her a mischievous grin back. Everything as it should be._

_“Ah, my friend,” Thor’s voice booms from the other side of Steve. He’s wearing jeans and a flannel. An apron that reads_ Real Men Cook _fastened to his impressive chest and an honest to God chef’s hat placed firmly on his hair. He’d tied up in a low pony-tail to avoid any strands falling into the impressive barbeque he had going on. He gives Steve a beaming smile and a wink before continuing to chastise the archer. “There is no need for jealousy merely because your beloved is not here.”_

_“Oh, stuff it, Fabio,” Clint retorts with a small pout. He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at them both as they chuckled. Steve scans the terrace and finds that Phil is, indeed, missing from the gathering. He’d bet anything that Agent would be stepping in in no time, though. “It’s not like your lady is here, either.”_

_At that precise moment, Jane walks in with a chatting Darcy who’s been followed by a puppy-looking Pietro who seems to be hanging to her every word. Wanda follows more sedately with a little grin of her own. It widens a bit when she sees Tony, and she walks off to sit by his side. He turns and ruffles her hair and…_ wait, what?

There’s a rushing feeling in his chest, and he feels like he can’t breathe. Pain, there’s a horrible plain in his chest and shoulder, and his leg feels like it’s on fire. Fuck, when the hell did he get hurt? And where were the others? Why was everything so dark? Did they get attacked? JARVIS and Fury were supposed to keep a perimeter for them when they wanted get-togethers like this. Had someone snuck in without their noticing? Why hadn’t they sounded the alarm? And where was everyone else? Had they gotten hurt?

He blinked his eyes open and immediately shut them with a groan of pain. Christ, but the light was _bright_. Blinding white in its intensity. Was that the sun? No, it felt artificial. What was happening? And why did his chest suddenly felt tighter? Why did it hurt so much? Oh, oh shit, he can’t breathe. Feels like the constriction of his windpipe from his asthma days, and he can’t fucking breathe. He can’t even groan in pain as he strains himself to take a breath. But he can’t, he _can’t_ , and then there are voices suddenly becoming clearer and frantic beeping and a cold touch on his neck.

“-ave to keep him stabilized. Shit, he’s losing a lot of blood,” a female voice says near his ear. Delicate fingers are fiddling with something around his mouth. “He’s going to go into cardiac arrest if we don’t control his heart. Chandler, page in—“whatever else she says gets lost in the sudden loudness of his heart beating as if to break out of his ribcage and the noose around his throat tightens and he feels his body lurch up and then—

_“Whoa, man, you okay?” Clint is no longer in his perch, but has his arms wrapped around Steve’s arms. It’s then that the soldier notices he’d lurched forwards for some unfathomable reason. He raises a shaking hand to his temple and finds it wet with cold sweat. What the hell was that? A memory? He’s never been hurt like that before. Sure, he’s landed at the hospital a couple times, but it had never been that bad. If anything, Tony’s the one that—_

_“Babe?” Tony’s soft, only for him, voice pulls him out of a muddy memory. He turns to the man who’s suddenly right next to him, an arm wrapped around his waist and a hand tapping on Steve’s chest in sync with his heart. “You all right?”_

_“Fine,” Steve doesn’t know why he’s so breathless. Suddenly, every intake of oxygen feels like the best reward. What the fuck is going on with him?_

_Tony stares up at him with concerned wide eyes. God, he’s gorgeous. All open sincerity and an adorable little frown on his face. And yeah maybe Clint_ is _right because he shouldn’t be thinking of a grown ass man as adorable, but fuck it. He leans down to kiss Tony full on the mouth, Clint’s pretend-barfing and Thor’s contented chuckle completely unimportant, and feels the genius resist for a minute before he melts into the kiss. Steve grins into his mouth in triumph, and Tony bites at his bottom lip in punishment. Needless to say, it only serves to make Steve more invested into their little PDA before a voice calls from the doorway and Steve’s face blanches._

 _“How_ very _sweet,” the mocking, stern voice calls from the doorway. Tony goes rigid in Steve’s arms and he can feel his family creating a defensive front around them. He pulls his gaze from Tony’s angry expression and finds Thaddeus Ross in all his bureaucratic, stoic walked onto the terrace. And suddenly he understands why nobody had attacked the man. His hand is wrapped around Bruce’s arm as he drags him forward. Tony takes an instinctive step in their direction at seeing his best friend in such a state, but Steve grabs at his hand to stop him._

_Steve’s always been a good tactician. He’s able to make plans on the go after surveying enough information. He sees Ross has a gun in his hand, a hand gun thank God, and another one strapped to his thigh. He’s willing to bet there’s at least one more concealed in his waistband and perhaps another one strapped to his calf. Steve’s shield was, stupidly, still next to his and Tony’s bed and the gauntlets would take too many precious seconds to arrive. Wanda might be able to get his gun away, and Pietro could run and divert his attention, but… but, there was Bruce to consider. The fact that Ross, who Steve knew thanks to Tony still gave the other scientist nightmares, was manhandling him as he wished and Bruce hadn’t changed… that’s when the man turned his head and Steve caught a glance of the chip imbedded in his neck._

_So did the others, if Tony’s struggle with his grip is any indication, but Steve refused to let him go. Pietro and Wanda cursed under their breath, something not quite Russian, and he immediately knew they’d been trying to find a way to get the gun and Bruce out of range. “What the fuck do you want?”_

_Ross gave Tony a mockingly incredulous look before he raised the gun and aimed it at him. It took all of Steve’s will power to not pull the genius behind him. God, how had they let themselves be so vulnerable? Take one of their own, and they crumbled. All they could do, then, was wait for Natasha or Phil to walk in or someone else to come up with a goddamn plan because Steve was drawing up blanks._

_“Oh, dear Tony, I’m merely here to collect!” he drew the gun away from Tony and pointed it at Steve instead. He had no idea what that meant, but Tony obviously did. He gave one good yank and stepped away from Steve. The soldier would have to lunge forward to reach him, and something told him that Ross would shoot him if he moved. He cursed at Tony under his breath._

_“You’ve got nothing to collect,” Tony hissed at him. Steve looked at the tension on is back, and then met Bruce’s eyes. He knew the scientist was trying to tell him something, but he had no idea what it was. “You broke our deal. You said—“_

_“That no one in your… family would get hurt, yeah yeah,” Ross waved his gun carelessly and Steve took a step forward. Someone caught his shoulder, and he turned back to see Thor shaking his head minutely, an arm wrapped around Jane. “That was no fault of mine, though, was it?”_

_“You—“Tony took another step forward and the gun moved to Bruce’s head. Hope was that even if he shot him nothing would happen, but the fact that Bruce wasn’t reverting into the Hulk was enough to have fear creep down Steve’s spine. This was Bruce’s worst nightmare; if he’d been able to he would have changed already._

_“So I’m here to cut you a bargain,” Ross said then aimed his weapon at Steve again. Tony took another step forward, like the reckless idiot that he was, and stepped a little to his right so that he partially covered Steve. The soldier could have choked him! “I’ll give you something that you want,” and then there was a figure emerging from behind him, and Steve’s heart beat frantically again. The Winter Soldier, with the mask on and a glinting vibranium arm, stepped in beside Ross. It wasn’t Bucky, the_ new _Bucky, and Steve didn’t know what that meant but he knew that the man in front of him was just all wrong. “I’ll give you something you want, but only if you help me reinstate registration.”_

 _Tony stood rigid for a moment. Steve knew he was looking at Bucky and trying to decide if he was worth it; if the fights and the argument they’d had over him were worth it. “Tony,_ NO _,” Steve said emphatically, and felt an odd sense of de-javu as if he’d been given the same choice before, but he’d taken a different route. There was no way to investigate it further though, as Tony began speaking._

_“Fine,” Tony replied quietly._

_“I’m sorry, what?” Ross smiled nastily. He pointed the gun at Bruce again and Tony raised his hands again. Steve wanted to grab him and pull him back._

_“I said yes, okay, just let Bruce go,” and then he did something too fast for any of them to stop. Steve had the movements of Tony’s body imprinted in his mind like a tattoo, and he knew what that meant. Ross gave a confused frown, and then a second later, the gauntlets were assembling themselves over his hands and he took aim at Ross._

_The hit never connected, though, as Bucky was there to protect him from it. “Should have taken the easy way out,” Ross tutted at Tony, and then Buck was on him. Tony hadn’t called the entire suit, so he had absolutely no chance to stop his old friend from throwing Tony on his back and making a beeline for the reactor._

_It didn’t mean, however, that he had to stand by and watch it happen. With a wordless noise, something between a scream and a roar, Steve tried to throw himself at his friend. Tried to get him away from his lover, and GOD the reactor was in pieces, but then pain flared up from his leg, and he turned to see Ross taking aim at him again. Bruce laid, unmoving, next to him, and Ross's shirt was stained red. Why was it—shot—why was he bleeding if—shot—nobody had done anything._

_Eyes snapped to Tony, motionless, his head turned towards Steve. The brown eyes that he loved so much, open and lifeless, looking right at him. A scream tore out of Steve’s chest, gurgled in his throat as he brought a hand up to his blood soaked chest, and tried to drag himself to his lover. Bucky, fingers trying desperately to put the pieces of the reactor back together, sobbing threw his teeth. A horrible mantra of “Didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, god, please, wake up, I’m sorry,” creating a haunting soundtrack to the bloodshed happening in front of him. Steve gritted his teeth as his vision began to blacken around the edges. He tried one last lunge and then—_

“-eed to wake up, Steve. You can’t do this, fuck you! You promised, god damn it! You said you weren’t leaving again. Remember? That day at the hospital? When I wouldn’t talk to you, please, God, you need to wake up. I’ll do anything, okay? I won’t run, Steve, all right? I’ll talk to you. All you want. About anything you want; I’ll even talk about feelings with you, Steve, okay? You just gotta wake up, baby, please, I’m _begging you_ , you have to wake up,” there was pressure against his hand. He tried, so damn hard, to open his eyes, but they stubbornly remained closed. He would have given anything to take away the pain from Tony’s voice then. “I don’t want to do this without, Steve,” there was a warm breath ghosting over his limp hand. He cursed at his own bad luck. He’d gone so long without the feeling of Tony’s skin against his and now he was missing out on it in the blurriness of pain. “I know, okay, I know I made it look like I could, and I _can_ , but by God, Steve, I don’t want to,” Tony’s voice croaked out. There was suddenly dampness on his hand, and Steve made a noise of distress. Tony’s voice, and breathing stopped for a second, and Steve willed himself to open his eyes. He couldn’t do, and then Tony released a breath like a sob. “Please, don’t make me lose you again, Steve. You _have_ to wake up. I can’t let yo-you g-g-go aga-aga-in. You ha-have to wa-wake u-up.”

The effort of trying to open his eyes again did the complete opposite. Everything suddenly went black.

                                                                                      ***

_Steven._

Steve was pulled from unconsciousness by a voice he hadn’t heard in quite a while. This time, when he tried to open his eyes he was able to. Barely made it up into slits, but it was something. He turned to his right, where he remembered Tony had been before he lost consciousness, and caught sight of a mop of brown unruly hair. He let out a sigh of relief.

_Steven, sweetheart, what have you gotten yourself into this time?_

Steve turned his head so fast he made himself dizzy. He was one million percent sure he was hallucinating, but he didn’t give a damn at that moment. Maybe it was the pain killers, or the fact that he had been shot, or the fact that he had been through a goddamn rollercoaster of emotion for the last _month_ , but whatever the reason he felt his eyes misting over at the vision in front of him.

Standing pressed against the railing in her pristine uniform and with perfectly coiffed blond hair, as Steve liked to imagine him when he allowed himself to do so, was his mother. She was beautifully angelic, just as he remembered. And she was giving him that little chastising smile she gave him whenever he got into trouble. He instinctively tightened his hand on Tony’s fingers, and the man gave a groan but didn’t wake up.

“M-m-mamma,” Steve managed to choke out. Suddenly, he felt all of ten years old again.

_What did they do to you, baby?_

Steve merely shook his head, unable to tear his eyes from her, and raised his arm weakly. He tried to grab onto the closest part of her he could reach, but his fingers grappled with clear air. He gritted his teeth and tried not to sob. Fucking hell. Why was she here? Was this part of his punishment?

 _Oh nonsense, Steven,_ she told him sternly. He couldn’t help but chuckle through his teeth. Leave it to his momma to not put up with his bullshit. She patted his cheek, and his heart wrenched painfully with the longing to feel her touch again. _Always going around, making a storm in a teacup, I swear. You have never deserved punishment, honey. You need to stop thinking like that._

“I did something bad, momma,” he whispered. The guilt and pain threatened to choke him.

 _I know, sweetheart. I know you’ve made some bad choices, but I am so, so proud of you, baby,_ she told him. He made a sound of protest and bit his lip. She shushed him. _You have done much more than anyone ever expected from you, my sweet boy. You’ll get through this too._

“How?” Steve asked wretchedly. How the fuck could he even begin to make up for what he’d allowed to happen? For what he had done? How could he ever expect to come back from that?

 _I have always watched over you, darling. I have seen your suffering… but when that boy came to you,_ her fond gaze fell to Tony’s sleeping head. Steve’s heart soared at the, albeit imaginative, acceptance his mother seemed to have for his lover. _I have never seen you so happy, Steven. It was like everything lit up for you, didn’t it, sweetheart? He means to you what your father once meant to me. You can’t allow that to die, Steven._ Her voice turned stern, and she gave him the look she always gave him when she had something very important to tell him. The look that meant he better listen well. God, how he loved her. _He will fight you, Steven, he is so hurt as I’m sure you know. Your job is to make him believe again. Believe in the miracle that your love is for him._

“It’s not a miracle,” he said forcefully. If anything, it was as easy as breathing. As easy as opening his eyes in the morning and knowing he’s alive. “It was never a miracle to love him. It never will be.”

His mother smiled proudly at him, and he gave her a grin in return. _Then you better make him believe,_ she told him sternly. She leaned forward and he knew she was pressing her lips to his forehead even if he couldn’t feel it. he pretended like he could anyway. _I am so glad he makes you happy, darling, there is nothing else I could have hoped for. I love you, Steven, and you have made me so proud._ She began to flicker then, and he made a desperate grab at her. For the first time he noticed that he was crying, and he managed to choke out an _I love you_ before she went.

_Bring him ‘round to visit sometime, Steven, honestly._

And then she was gone, and he had to grit his teeth and blink furiously at the ceiling to try to stop crying. He focused on carding the fingers of his free hand through Tony’ hair, which _ouch_ chest still hurt, and waited for the other man to wake up. There was a frown on his face, and his cheeks were flushed. He also looked like he’d been on a four day bender, and Steve worried about how long he’d been in hospital. He began to doze, and then was unceremoniously awoken completely when Tony sprang up into a seated position.

Before Steve could say anything, the man’s face turned furious. The soldier began to berate himself for being so stupid. As if getting shot because of his own stupidity would make Tony forgive him. There was nothing that would ever make the man look at him as he used to. He opened his mouth to apologize, and then Tony was grabbing him roughly from the nape of his neck and bringing him forward. He worried that the other man would headbutt him, irrationally as it seemed, and then a miracle happened.

He could almost hear his momma telling him “ _I told you so, Steven_ ,” _when Tony’s lips met his._ Steve closed his eyes and sobbed into the other man’s mouth. He’d missed this so _damn_ much. From the slightly chapped feel of the man’s lips after a few sleepless nights to the roughness of his ridiculous facial hair, to the calluses on his hand as his fingers cradled his neck and cheek. He’d missed the feel of his tongue, wet and wonderful and so incredibly _talented_ , making his head spin. He’d missed the little puffs of breath against his lips and the gentle brush of his eyelashes on his cheekbones. Had missed the complete sense of _love and lust and need_ that he managed to pour into every kiss they’d ever shared. He’d missed everything.

And he had lost it. The thought of Tony reverting to the man who avoided him after this made him desperate with need. He sobbed against the other man’s mouth again, and tried desperately to bring him closer. His hands gripped his hips as he urged Tony forward. The frantic beeping of his heart monitor all but inconsequential as he tried to permanently meld himself into Tony. Desperately trying to keep him within the confines of his arm to keep him _safe, warm, alive_ , _LOVED._  

He hadn’t realized he was all out crying, big ugly sobs, until Tony pulled away. He rested his forehead against Steve’s as he panted for breath. He could feel those nimble fingers carding through his hair as Tony tried his best to shush him. Steve realized that his time was limited and he buried himself into Tony’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against the reactor. He rested his head there and tightened his grip on the other man. “I’m so, _so_ goddamn sorry. I love you. God, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry. Forgive me. Please, please, I’m sorry. I can’t—I can’t—please, _forgive_ me.”

“Shh, shh, Steve,” Tony whispered against his hair. Steve refused to look up at him. Refused to see the same disgust and anger he’d imagined for over a month. It’d destroy him. “I am right here, baby. I am not going anywhere. You have to calm down, baby, I need you to breathe. Breathe for me, baby,” and Steve did. Tony kept up the litany of reassurances into his hair until the doctors came; called in by the commotion of all the machines he was hooked up to.

In the chaos that ensued, people in scrubs and the occasional, sagging with relief Avenger, Steve searched for Tony. He found him in the same place every time. Right on his right side, with his fingers stubbornly entwined with his, and a watchful look on his face. Every time Steve’s treacherous brain began to sprout doubts that threatened to double him over, Tony leaned down to press his lips against his hair. Squeezed his fingers. Turned those wonderfully expressive eyes to meet his. Told him the same message, over and over, until Steve began to believe it. Bit by bit.

_I am right here._

_Right with you._

**Author's Note:**

> So incredibly thankful to you guys. I was so into this that I haven't had time to reply to your comments, but I will.  
> Anyways, so? So? Eh, eh? Did ya liiiiiike? 'Cause I did!  
> And gotta keep things even, huh? Tony got his turn, now Steeb gets to have his ma! T^T  
> P.s. romanticized kissing my someone who's never been kissed *CRIES FOR DAYS. SOME ONE GET ME A TONY OR A STEEB*


End file.
